Murphy's Law
by unknownvirus
Summary: What if Harry were entrusted to Severus Snape instead of the Dursleys? Mishaps ensue... [updated!-- ch.6]
1. In Which we find Snape Shopping for Diap...

Disclaimer: I don't own, I don't claim to own, and I don't hope to own. Please don't sue.  
  
Murphy's Law  
  
  
One ~*~ In Which we find Snape Shopping for Diapers  
  
Smoke billowed, like the cape of a Dementor, up to the moonless black sky. Its source was no longer burning, the fire put out like the lives that had been extinguished there that night. Hooded figures investigated around the smoldering embers of what used to be a cherished home.  
  
Albus Dumbledore, the brilliant lit tip of his wand glinting off his half-moon spectacles, gave a sigh of relief as one of the Aurors picked a bundle up from the wreckage and handed it to him. The ancient wizard stared sadly down at the small child cradled in his arms, the blanket tattered and scorched like a defeated battle flag.  
  
The child did not cry, but stared up at Dumbledore with emerald eyes so large that they seemed to wrap around the sides of his face. Underneath tousled ebony hair lay a small scar-a permanent memory of the night's tragedy. Otherwise, he was unscathed.   
  
"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said softly to the boy as the other wizards attempted to clear out two bodies, forever still in the arms of death.  
  
~*~  
  
"I will /not/ see him go to the hands of /Muggles/!"  
  
Dumbledore stared, amused, over the tops of his glasses at Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. "May I remind you that it was yourself who barged in here of your own accord. This matter is not of your concern," he added, his tone rather clipped.   
  
"The authority to decide Harry's custody /has/ been passed to me, Dumbledore," Fudge thundered, although it sounded a trifle self-assuring. "I tell you, with Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew out of the question, the next on the list written by James Potter /himself/ is Severus Snape!"  
  
"What about me?" Remus Lupin, seated in the corner, half-rose from his chair. The deaths of two of his closest friends had not treated him well; dark circles were present under his eyes and his hair and robes were more rumpled than usual. "I would imagine that James placed me on the list."  
  
"Remus," Dumbledore said quietly, "James believed you to be-"  
  
"Oh. Yes, of course." Lupin sat down again, his face unreadable. "Mind, I /am/ willing to take Harry, and I would like very much to do so."  
  
Cornelius shook his head. "Given your current… condition… I would lose all respect in the Ministry if-"  
  
"Do you care about anything /else/ other than the Ministry and your public appearance?" Remus demanded, his high-strung nerves flaring up in annoyance. Merlin, this bumbling buffoon bothered him!  
  
Cornelius ignored the werewolf completely, adopting a look on his face that suggested that Remus was not even worth consorting with. He turned back to Dumbledore and thumped the sheaf of documents with his hand. "The list Potter left behind here states that Snape is his second choice."  
  
"What I don't understand…" Remus said slowly, glowering at the Minister, "is why James would pick Snape. The two utterly loathed each other."  
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Remus, I believe that you can answer your own question."  
  
"Of course. Ever the practical joker." Lupin frowned. "It would be like James to rely solely on his… best friend…" the man's expression darkened considerably. "…rather than play it safe."  
  
"And James specifically wrote that he forbids any association of Harry with-" Dumbledore smiled appreciatively. "Well, the word of James' choosing is a bit, er, /ripe/, shall we say. With the Muggles side of Lily's family." There was a soft flutter as he turned to another page.  
  
"It will be Severus, then," Fudge said with as much finality as he could muster. "Harry will go to Severus Snape."  
  
A sudden thought struck Remus Lupin.  
  
"Has anyone /spoken/ to Snape about this yet?"  
  
~*~  
  
Severus Snape was on his third cup of tea for the evening when he noticed the approaching silhouette of an enormous owl from his window.  
  
From the jaunty, confident way it flew, Snape would have bet seven Galleons to a Sickle that it was a Ministry bird. It landed on the porch of Snape's old Tudor with a noiseless "fwoosh" of its wings and clacked its handsome beak in a businesslike manner. The owl thrust forth a talon, waiting for the Hogwarts professor to untie its letter. When the entire procedure had been concluded, the owl clacked its beat again, hooted, and flapped away.  
  
Severus proceeded back inside, poured himself another cup of steaming green tea, and took a seat in his office. Frowning as he attempted to locate a letter opener within all of the /junk/ piled across his desk, he finally gave up the effort and resorted to tearing the side off the envelope.   
  
It was from Fudge. Snape shut his eyes in despair-- /now/ what did the moron want with him? Cornelius had never trusted Snape, and the potions master in turn had never liked the idiot. Even though Dumbledore had convinced all of the Minstry's courts that Severus was /not/ a Death Eater but a spy for their cause, Fudge had still called on him to be executed.   
  
With Voldemort gone, he had finally been granted some peace-peace from spying, peace from making life-or-death decisions almost every day, peace from living in a world of danger. He would rather grovel at James Potter's feet than let that peace be taken away from him.   
  
Snape sighed irritably and looked back down at the letter. His eyes widened, then bulged out to almost inhuman proportions as he skimmed the letter through.  
  
The birds were shaken from their perches in the trees near the harmless-looking old Tudor as Snape screamed aloud, "ARGH!! WHY ME?!!"  
  
~*~  
  
Remus Lupin would not have, if he were asked, described his and Severus' relationship as one in which they despised each other. On the contrary-Remus and Severus had actually been on good terms while they were at Hogwarts. Friends, even. Any animosity between them had simply faded away after graduation, as they were forced to work together on several occasions in the effort against the Dark Lord.  
  
In this way, Remus felt that he should have been offering support of some kind to the gaunt Potions Master, but at the sight of Snape shopping for diapers with a furious snarl on his face and an enraged, almost mad glint in his jet eyes, Lupin could not take it anymore  
  
They were in a Muggle supermarket, where they looked terribly out of place with their wizarding dress and all. Already, two confused-looking employees had asked them if they needed help, each holding a common international phrasebook. Honestly! Did they look /that/ foreign? Snape had scared them shitless and sent them scurrying with his trademark glare and snarl combo.  
  
Snape stared down at the practically hyperventilating wizard and snapped with a curl of his lip, "honestly, Remus, if you can't take this better than I…"  
  
He pushed the shopping cart forwards, scowling at another employee, who yelped and ran off.  
  
"When is he coming?" Remus questioned, apparently through with his succumbtion to the fit of laughter he'd just displayed.   
  
"In three days," Severus replied sourly, eyes roaming over the wide shelves of different diapers. "Did Dumbledore agree to this?"  
  
Remus smiled wryly. "He tried to, you know, reason with Fudge. I swear, that man is stupider that some of the hinkypunks I've run across in my travels… All in all, it's not that bad. At least Dumbledore convinced Fudge to let me help."  
  
"Help by stopping /me/ from attempting murder on our dear Minister," Snape grated. "Now look at these ridiculous Muggle contraptions… which one am I supposed to buy?"  
  
"Um…" Moony made an impatient face as he stared around the displays. For some odd reason they all seemed to have pictures of half-naked children on them. "Why not just get all of them and be on the safe side?  
  
~*~  
  
Snape frowned, trying to resist prodding at the child with his wand. "Why isn't he crying"  
  
"Oh, /honestly/!" Remus muttered. "Babies don't cry continuously!"  
  
Dark eyes glinted. "How would you know?"  
  
"I-ehr-" Remus slapped his forehead in exasperation. "Look, it's common sense, all right?"  
  
"Your common sense is deranged," Snape shot back. "All the babies in the movies I've seen are crying constantly. Or eating. Or sleeping."  
  
"Or burping," the werewolf added helpfully.  
  
"Or burping," Severus agreed. He stared down at Harry again. "Potter is doing neither." In the cradle, the small infant gazed upwards with his unusually green orbs, face practically emotionless and staying rather still.  
  
"/Potter/?" Remus demanded incredulously. "Oh, no, Sev, you are /not/ going to raise this child calling him 'Potter' until he's eighteen! His name is Harry!"  
  
Snape scowled, making his eyebrows lower like ominous thunderclouds. "I am suggesting that there may be something wrong with… /Harry/."  
  
"Better," Lupin granted. "There's nothing wrong. I mean, between the two of us, we should be able to sort things out."  
  
Snape looked startled. "'Two' of us?" he echoed.  
  
"Yes," Lupin agreed in a businesslike manner. He pointed. "See my luggage? I'm moving in, Sev. Face it, you need help. I mean, who goes and buys the entire display of diapers in a Muggle supermarket?"  
  
"Only because /you/ told me to!" Severus protested, then realized how remarkably silly he must have looked and shut his mouth. But it was already too late; Remus was laughing his head off, chortling about a goldfish or something. Snape felt the mirth steal across him helplessly as well, and finally dissolved in a rare, much-needed smile.   
  
~*~  
  
Severus Snape was no stickler for interior decorating. His Tudor had been inherited from some long-dead relative that had passed on far beyond the reaches of his time and memory. Luckily, she happened to have been a rather aesthetic lady, as the inside of Snape's home was not ugly or bare. And in the home's many rooms (this relative also had a knack for adding extra chambers as she saw fit) that the insufferably nosy Lupin had snooped about in, there had been one perfect for Harry.   
  
It was medium-sized, painted Slytherin green with gold trimmings. Soft, oriental rugs covered the wooden floor and a beaming window opened up to the sky, shaded by a gauzy curtain. An old light hung from the ceiling.   
  
They moved his crib there and enchanted a few baubles to fly around and such above him for entertainment. Lupin had also managed to find "101 Charms for the Newborn" at Flourish & Blott's, which turned out to be handy in only the magical aspects of raising a child. As a result, Snape had to endure a few embarrassing trips to the local Muggle library to pick up books on diaper changing and such.  
  
He was flicking through one of these, seated in front of the fireplace and remarking to his companion, "I never realized there were so many hazards around the house."  
  
"Hazards?" Remus frowned. "My house was a perfectly safe place to grow up in and it was at least three times more chaotic than yours."  
  
"Proves you were dropped on your head one time too many," Severus responded with one of his incredibly corrosive comebacks. "I think we need to cut the electricity from this place."  
  
"Electricity?" Lupin's frown deepened.  
  
"Honestly, Remus ,the stuff Muggles use to run their-uh,--/appliances/?"   
  
"What's an appliance?"  
  
"The hell should I know?" Snape threw the book down in disgust. "All this damned thing shows me is a little picture of a white box with black markings on it. And it says that these things-" he pointed to a wall, where an electrical outlet was placed-"Are dangerous to babies that stick their fingers in them."  
  
"/Those/ things?" Lupin asked, bending down to take a better look. "They look harmless enough." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and he fished a key from the folds of his robes.  
  
"Hey, what are you-" Snape stood up in alarm, but it was too late.  
  
/ZAP!/  
  
Remus went flying across the room, looking as if he'd been hit by fifty consecutive Disarming Charms. His gray-flecked hair was completely on end, his limbs moving rigidly in spasing motions, jerking uncontrollably. His gray eyes were wide with shock.  
  
Severus glanced curiously at the key. It was a bit blackened on one end, but still glinted innocently on the floor. Then he stared back at Lupin, and asked, "how did it feel?"  
  
Remus' eyes rolled up and his mouth stuttered, "H-h-how d-d-did w-w-what f-feel…?"  
  
Snape smirked in a superior sort of way. "Stupidity."   
  
~*~  
  
12-1: Look! The rewrite I promised is here! I thought I would just flesh out some parts because I found them to be rather lacking… hope it's better! 


	2. Some Temporary Improvements at the Minis...

Disclaimer: I don't own, I don't claim to own, and I don't hope to own. Please don't sue.  
  
Murphy's Law  
  
  
Two ~*~ Some Temporary Improvements at the Ministry  
  
The electrical outlets had all been painstakingly removed from their snug dens in the walls. Also, a series of charms had been placed around Harry's crib, most of them there to warn either Remus or Snape if their small charge decided he wanted something and started crawling around.  
  
Oddly enough, he /never/ cried. Because of this, Snape and Lupin had to rely mainly on guesswork when it came to the time to feed him or change his diaper. He took a good deal less work than most infants (or so Mrs. Weasley told them). That woman had been a saving grace for the two, and Remus found himself ringing her up at least twice a week with some query or another.   
  
The werewolf was beginning to note that his old colleague was starting to become /very/ attached to the son of his arch-nemesis. It would be ironic, Remus mused, if taking care of Harry was what killed Snape in the end. Subsequently, it was Snape who worried about the boy's lack of wailing; Snape who researched the optimum proportion of ingredients in baby formula; Snape who rose in the morning, grumbling like some storm on the horizon, to tend to the small child in a very fond sort of way.  
  
It was one such morning, only a few days after the previous full moon, that Lupin padded down the stairs to fetch a cup of tea. The transformation had left him particularly exhausted this time; deep rings were prevalent under his eyes and his reaction time was seriously slowed by the way that he seemed to blink at nothing. He reached the kitchen, put a kettle on the stove to boil (he decided that he'd rather not use magic, as it was very possible that he would accidentally blow something up in his current befuzzled state), and turned to the front door to see if the newspaper had come yet.  
  
And almost had a heart attack.   
  
Pressed to the frosted glass, their breaths steaming in the crisp autumn air, a mob of reporters clamored for his attention. Some he recognized to be from the Daily Prophet, identifiable by their gold-tipped quills, madly scribbling on sheets of parchment. A few were from Witch Weekly, including a revolting-looking woman dressed in a particularly repulsive shade of violet and sporting a pair of equally repulsive glasses. They shouted so much that Remus thought he felt the house quiver. He was /very/ surprised that Severus hadn't been woken yet. The man was a light sleeper-probably a token from his Death Eater days.   
  
Lupin knew he lacked both the energy and the resolve to face this hellish throng, especially after his monthly ordeal. They didn't look like they were going to disperse anytime soon, either. He trudged back up the winding staircase, down the lighted hallway and to the heavy mahogany doors of Severus' chambers. He knocked stiffly on these.  
  
A series of annoyed noises ensued, including a few muttered curse words. After a few seconds, a grumpy-looking Snape opened the door. He was dressed in his robes, but his hair was tousled and messed from slumber.  
  
"'S morning already? Where's my coffee?"  
  
Remus pointed downstairs. "Reporters."  
  
Instantly, Severus' demeanor shifted. His eyes focused and hardened, and he retrieved his wand from the insides of his robes. His mouth quickly turned down in a scowl and he absently sough to curb his unruly hair, face darkening more with each passing second. Then, he stalked downstairs like some enraged animal, midnight robes billowing out after him in true Severus Snape fashion. There was silence for a brief second as the Potions Master's glittering obsidian gaze cowered the vultures.   
  
Remus walked quickly to the edge of the staircase, where it overlooked the foyer, not wanting to miss the show. The sharp, bright morning light streamed through the large window that was situated above the front door, blinding his eyes. He raised an arm to shade them and glanced downwards.  
  
Severus opened the front door, his arms now crossed in front of his chest in a gesture that indicated that he was /not/ going to let /anyone/ inside. The mob looked a bit disappointed by that, but the silence was finally broken by one faltering voice: "Is it true that…?"  
  
This sprang open the dam, resulting in a flood of more questions. Severus Snape remained silent, letting the questions bounce off his like harmless spells. Then he raised his wand, lips quirking upwards a little, if anything making his face appear to be even more sinister. His tangle of dark hair shadowed his eyes as the Potions Master spoke in a low, clear voice.  
  
"If I may make a suggestion, /ladies and gentlemen/--" the sarcasm rolled off each syllable-"Leave my property." The disdain in his voice ate visibly away at the reporter's self-confidence; some of them wilted like flowers that had been watered by acid.  
  
Finally, a particularly imbecilic one piped up, does that mean you won't answer questions? Hey, can I quote you on that?"   
  
This reporter was a young, fashionably tanned fellow with a mop of sun-bleached hair. It was interesting, Remus observed, to see Snape turn his gaze on the unlucky fellow and watch the color drain from his face so that the tan turned into about the same shade as his hair, if not lighter. His pale eyes widened in horror as Severus raised his wand, smirking evilly.   
  
Remus yelled out, trying to warn his friend about the consequences that he would face with the Ministry if he cursed even a fraction of the news hounds, but his voice carried on unheeded, as in a flash, Snape had Stunned at least half of the vultures before they had any clue what was happening. They toppled over each other in an interesting Dominoes effect, limbs flailing and hitting others, who swore and tried to pry the seemingly lifeless bodies off themselves.  
  
Snape uttered a few choice words, and the rest were hit by a medley of different curses and hexes, so that the crowd was filled with animal noises and jelly-legs, or people with leeks springing from their ears or people coughing up slugs. It seemed that these reporters had no clue how to defend themselves magically. Remus actually began to wonder if they weren't Squibs in order to take such a job. At this point, there were definitely less people in it than animals; the entire procession was like a pudding of oddities. Bit by bit, in a rather cacophonous procession, the mob made its way down away from Severus' house and fled towards the nearest source of a countercurse.   
  
Severus Snape closed the front door, a smug, self-congratulating smile on his face.   
  
~*~  
  
If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong.  
  
Corollary: If there is a worse time for something to go wrong, it will happen then.  
  
--From Murphy's Laws.   
  
~*~  
  
Deep in the midst of raging waters stood the prison of Azkaban. The entire backdrop to the place was gray, sucked of all color and devoid of all life. Even when the sun was out and the skies were clear, they were never really blue; the Dementors took care of all that. They created a vortex that told visitors that the sky was, in reality, cloudy and most likely to remain so for all eternity. They created a coldness that chilled visitors down to the very marrow of their bones, a chill that could never be thawed out for the rest of their lives.  
  
Inside the prison, wretched bodies clawed at the sides of their cells, blubbering irrationally, begging and pleading with ghosts that were not their. Some lay still, body wracked with sobs until they had cried their tears dry with the misery and horrors of the place. Others stared soullessly at the mold-eaten walls, curled up as tightly as possibly, trying to soak back the warmth that was not really there.  
  
And then, there was Sirius Black.  
  
Azkaban had not been kind to him, either. His dark hair was matted over his eyes and thin, gaunt face. His stare was an unnerving one, pale eyes full of a feverish obsession that was almost no different from the crazed glares the other prisoners owned. Sometimes, he rested in a mat of filthy hay, thinking. Other times, his hands gripped the bars of his cell like talons aching to rip the confinements away.   
  
He was crouched next to the bars when it fluttered by. And, by reflex, he reached out an caught it. It was a newspaper, one that he supposed a visitor had left behind. It crinkled merrily of his grip, promising a temporary reprise from the dull madness of the morbid jail. He pulled it towards himself, barely making out the headlines in the dim lighting. He stumbled over the words and first, as they seemed unfamiliar from disuse, but as he went along, the reading went smoother, memories clicking into place as he rolled over each words with his eyes, relishing the meaning they gave.   
  
Then, as he slid down to the next headline, he felt his breath catch in his throat.   
  
CUSTODY OF BOY-WHO-LIVED GIVEN TO SEVERUS SNAPE, SUSPECTED DEATH EATER  
  
Sirius was so numbed at first from feeling anything but depression that the shock took him a few moments to register. He looked at his hand and found it shaking-odd, why? Everything seemed to float past him in a slow, murky daze. Then he glanced back at the paper, and his heart jumped again.  
  
/This is… this is not happening… this can't happen. Not after all that we've worked for… it can't end like this…/  
  
It couldn't, and it wouldn't. Resolve hardened the disturbing gaze of Sirius Black as a plan slowly formulated in his feverish mind. His thoughts came back into painful clarity, and memories of the past rounded back to hound him even more. The light of obsession radiated even more strongly from his eyes, as if feeding from all the pain that he had seen and growing stronger with each passing moment. There was finally a glimmer of life in the dull deathly haven of Azkaban.   
  
Then Sirius Black shook his head free of it all and sat back, watching the dark shadows of the Dementors swoop by his cell-and waited.  
  
~*~  
  
Fudge's office at the Ministry reflected his character completely, feeble and dull. It was small and circular in shape, lined with moldy drawers and moldier papers. Even the light that streamed inside seemed feeble and flickering and without much will to survive. A window shade flittered weakly in the wind, and a stale breeze crawled inside, barely lifting the lightest of documents.   
  
Over his old, well-worn desk, Cornelius hunched over and tried his best to give the culprit a stern, dignified glare. His balding hair was shielded by his famous bowler hat, and his pudgy, weak face and soft, weak chin was scrunched into what he thought was a frown. He folded his hands before him and said in what he deemed a commanding voice, "that was totally uncalled for, Severus Snape."  
  
The younger man glared back, cold anger in every line of his face. It made Fudge falter, but the enormous pride of the old buffoon made him continue,  
  
"I may have to place you under arrest for this."  
  
That was the last straw. Snape leaned forward, crouched like some jungle cat ready to spring upon its (very offending) prey. His eyes glinted in the light, somehow shining brighter and looking stronger and more /real/ than anything else in the pathetic office. His anger was even more intense than any other feeling the office carried within its dismal walls. Fudge felt like it was actually /funneled/ at him, and he felt its frozen heat as if it were a tangible thing.  
  
"I thought you promised to keep the press out of this." It wasn't a question, but an unnerving demand.  
  
In response, Cornelius tried to sit up at his full height and gave Snape a look that an admonishing father would direct towards his misbehaving teenager. "Now be reasonable, Severus. There was no way that I could have kept the Daily Prophet off my back like that. I had to give them /something/."  
  
Snape remained quiet for a moment, then his gaze intensified. "Then you lied, /Minister/." He spat the word out as if it were a particularly foul sort of taste in his mouth. "Do you have /any/ honor?"  
  
"Now see here-" Fudge said angrily, his eyebrows lowering on his brow, a frown beginning to form on his face. "I've been perfectly civil to you so far, Severus-"  
  
"Being 'civil' does /not/ include setting a mob of bloody /vultures/ on my house at six in the morning!" Snape roared, making Fudge cringe. "By all means push charges. If there is enough /nerve/ in your feeble brain to do so!" He stopped, remembering how Remus had told him about his sharp temper and how it would lead him into trouble.   
  
Fudge's face had turned very white, like a sheet, with his anger. His eyes practically bulged, but he swallowed his rage down, knowing what Snape was capable of doing… and getting away with. "Very well," he said quietly, his voice shaking. Severus allowed him a frigid smile, which only made Fudge angrier.. and more helpless. "N-no… charges will be pressed against you. Make sure it doesn't happen again," he finished, turning away. "This meeting is finished."  
  
"Indeed it is," Snape agreed. He rose and swept off in a flurry of ebony robes. What Fudge /didn't/ notice was a thin hand reaching into a pocket and uncorking a small phial's contents into the Minister's steaming mug of coffee.   
  
Fudge sighed irritably and massaged at his temples. He was too old for this, he convinced himself. Wearily, he reached over the littered papers on his desk and out for the caffeine-infused beverage and took a large sip, gasping a little as the scalding liquid burned his palette.   
  
There was a slight pop, and a large oversized bullfrog sat on the desk, in the Minister of Magic's place. Its back was unusually bumpy for a frog, and it was the color of fresh vomit. Its eyes bulged in horror as it realized what had just occurred, and it puffed out its throat in a loud, reverberating croak of indignation.   
  
A secretary ran into the office; a stern, older witch with her hair piled up on her head in an iron-gray bun. She took one look at the oversized amphibian and shrieked, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. She whipped out her wand and unleashed a Banishing Charm that blasted the unfortunate Minister out of the window and down two stories, its resounding croak growing more distant as it finally landed with an unpleasant /squelch/.  
  
Then the secretary ran over to the window to witness her handiwork, only to meet the sight of an overweight, balding-man in a bowler hat doubled over in pain and cursing the name of Severus Snape to the heavens.  
  
~*~  
  
  
"Isn't he adorable?" Mrs. Weasley gushed, her arms flung wide open, encouraging the small child to walk into them.  
  
The Weasley home was cluttered but snug. It /had/ to be, with that many kids running around at the same time. With two boys almost ready for Hogwarts, one /very/ bossy six-year-old, two wildly misbehaving toddlers, and two other young ones besides, the Weasleys didn't have much room for anything else.   
  
The kitchen was always busy and bustling, with dishes sploshing in the sink as they scrubbed themselves clean and stacked themselves up in the shelves and a pot or two bubbling contentedly on the stove. Something or another was always making funny noises and the house was never /quiet/. Yet it was the happy, open sort of noise that should be found in every house.   
  
Harry looked up at Mrs. Weasley; here was a gentle-looking, plump woman with rosy cheeks and a head of red yarn. Her apron was formidable and her eyes twinkled with friendliness. He inched forward, blinking a little, but the unsure toddler gait was noticeably absent from his movements, which were already beginning to achieve the fluidity of that of a kindergartner.   
  
Mrs. Weasley noticed this, too, reflecting on how strange a child this was. She glanced over at his guardians-well, that would explain some things. She watched, amused, as Severus was assaulted by the infamous Weasley twins, Fred and George.  
  
Fred was standing on the couch where Severus was seated, staring thoughtfully at the man's hair. Finally, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief, he asked, "Mr. Snape, why is your hair so greasy?"  
  
"Yeah!" George chimed in merrily. "It looks like the water in the sink after Mummy's all done with the dishes!"  
  
Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing (except for Ron, who was poking his little sister Ginny and giggling) to stare at the man being interrogated. Snape turned a very pale shade and could do nothing but glare at the miscreants.   
  
"/Fred/! /George/! /Behave/!" Mrs. Weasley snapped angrily, glaring sharply at her two boys. They gazed back up with innocent expressions, looking for all the world like two freckled little cherubs.   
  
Remus watched this all from the side, his face barely concealing his mirth. /How/ many times had he asked Snape the same question when they were in school? Being here, with the Weasleys in the Burrow, made him feel like the wizarding world was back to its cozy, close-knit self again. It was a welcome reprise from the normal daily chaos.   
  
"Careful, Molly," he commented, smiling softly. "Just wait until they get their wands."  
  
"God forbid!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, but her own grin told off that she didn't really mean it. Instead, she swept Harry up onto her lap. "You two are so lucky," she told them. "Look at him; hardly any trouble at all! Does he talk a lot?"  
  
Snape and Lupin exchanged worried glances. "Actually…" Remus began uneasily, that's why we came today. You see, Harry hasn't said a single word to us since he's been here and we were getting worried that there was something wrong with him…" He turned to Severus, who nodded stiffly.  
  
Molly Weasley glanced down at the small boy in her arms. Large emerald eyes stared back; she was taken with their intensity. They were so /focused/, promising a great deal of untapped potential beneath them. She smiled warmly at his two somewhat overprotective guardians.  
  
"Don't worry," she assured them. "You're doing the best you can for him; I can tell that. You two are doing just fine. Some boys develop at different rates than others… but unless I miss my guess, your Harry here will be talking in complete sentences when he finally decides to. He'll skip right over all of that baby talk, won't you Harry?," she added fondly. The intelligent green eyes blinked in agreement.  
  
A small smile began to steal across even Snape's stony features. "Thank you, Molly," he told her sincerely. "You're lucky, Lupin," he told his colleague. "If there /had/ been something wrong, I would have immediately suspected you dropping him on his head."  
  
Remus turned his gaze up towards the ceiling in feigned exasperation. "Why me?!"  
  
~*~  
  
AN: See? There /is/ some plot to this after all! Well, I guess starting to form. Reference to the title of the chapter-I thought a bullfrog may have been better than a Cornelius Fudge, thus the "temporary improvements." I read back on my first chapter and realized how sketchy the thing actually is; apologies for that, I may repost it if I find time this week.   
  
I actually did some research for this fic! You see, I have no clue on what the developmental stages of a child are, so we can assume in this fic that Harry is about 2 (almost). At this point, there should be some talk going on. Fred and George are 4, so they are capable of forming complete, coherent sentences. Also, for those of you who haven't heard of Murphy's Law(s), they're just a bunch of statements regarding this main theme: If anything can go wrong, it will. Which is kind of what happens to our poor protagonists in this fic. ^_^   
  
Thank you so much for the reviews! I really didn't expect so many positive ones… please drop some reviews for this chapter too! They're actually really motivating…  
  
One more thing: if I've spelled any Harry Potter related stuff wrong, let me know. I really haven't written any HP fanfics before this, and my spelling is naturally horrible, so there's a good chance that something's wrong somewhere or another.   
  
Thanks! 


	3. Tangled Webs

Disclaimer: I don't own, I don't claim to own, and I don't hope to own. Please don't sue.  
  
Murphy's Law  
  
  
Three ~*~ Tangled Webs  
  
Nothing is as easy as it looks.  
  
Every solution breeds new problems  
  
--From Murphy's Laws  
  
~*~  
  
The Burrow was a cozy place to wake up to in the morning. There would be about a minute of total calm, in which the sun rested peacefully at the edge of the horizon in soft pastel shades, tinting the entire world soft golden hues.  
  
Followed by utter chaos.  
  
The rooster(s) called out consecutively, heralding the coming day. In two separate rooms the adults swore to kill the thing and eat it, then slid drowsily out of bed. They moved slowly and tiredly, moaning for coffee or tea and padding towards the nearest water source to wake themselves up.  
  
The children were a completely different story. Fred and George, who shared a room, were in the stage where anything bouncy was considered necessary to jump upon. Thus, the first thing they did upon opening their eyes was scramble upright and trampoline on their bed. The rusty springs made a horrid creak, which woke the family ghoul. And the pipe-dropping began.  
  
Charlie and Bill (who also shared a room) decided that the first thing they wanted to do that morning was ride their broomsticks. Each grabbed his corresponding broom and, instead of taking the stairs, jumped out the window in their pajamas. Percy, being himself, ran into their room just in time to see Bill's red mop vanish out of sight, and began to lecture them loudly on the hazards of flying at seven in the morning.   
  
And, of course, Ginny woke up to the noise and started bawling her lungs out. The guests at the Burrow wondered at how small an object could produce such a /large/ noise. It was sufficient to send Snape into a /very/ bad mood that morning, until Harry sat up in his crib and gave his guardians a sleepy smile. That snapped Severus automatically into take-care-of-Harry mode, much to Lupin's relief.  
  
Down in the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley reached for her wand, muttering, "where are those children? When I-"  
  
"Which kids?" Mr. Weasley asked mildly. He took a chance glance out of the window, and a red-and-blue blur whizzed by. "Dear, we seem to have children flying around everywhere."  
  
Mrs. Weasley put some eggs on the stove too cook and went back upstairs to tend to Ginny and Ron, still muttering. On the way, she met Remus coming down, his hair a messy tousle. "Oh, Remus," she told him, "could you go outside and get Bill and Charlie for me?"  
  
"Um, sure-wait, did you say they were /outside/?" Remus frowned.  
  
"Yes," Mrs. Weasley said distractedly, picking up a toy that had been discarded by one of her many offspring the previous night and clucking her tongue. "Just look up. And get the newspaper too, would you, dear?"  
  
"Uh-yeah…" Lupin couldn't help but noticed how familiar Mrs. Weasley was with the utter calamity that seemed to be a daily occurrence at her house. /Merlin, am I glad we only have ONE to take care of!/ He stifled a yawn and padded outside in his slippers.  
  
Severus lead Harry into the kitchen, avoiding the human cannonballs that were Fred and George and almost stepping on a rat, which Snape Banished across the room and was about to incinerate before he realized that it may have belonged to someone in the family. A radio buzzed, "and from the weekly rumors from the Ministry, Corenelius Fudge was recently turned into a large bullfrog and blasted out of his windows by his former secretary, sustaining leg and back injuries-" as they passed it by. They seated themselves next to a tired-looking Ron. Severus then absentmindedly placed a vial of his latest batch of Wolfsbane Potion on the table where he supposed Remus would sit.  
  
The door slammed, and everyone turned to see Remus Lupin stalking towards them in a manner that would have done Snape proud.  
  
Clutched in his white-knuckled grasp was the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. The werewolf's face was set in a flat, unreadable line, but his eyes burned in tightly reined anger. Without a word, he set the paper down and slid it across to Severus. The potions master picked it up slowly, his gaze darkening, flicking from the paper to Harry.  
  
Finally, Mr. Weasley broke the silence. "What is it?" he asked in quiet tone.  
  
Snape turned the paper around and tapped the largest headline, printed in screaming bold ink.  
  
SIRIUS BLACK, FAMOUS DARK WIZARD, ESCAPED FROM AZKABAN!  
  
~*~  
  
Nobody at the table noticed Scabbers the rat.  
  
And who would? He was a pathetic creature, seen in a sluggish, dormant state most of the time. With a ugly, naked tail, patchy gray fur, and drooping, bent whiskers, he was the embodiment of laziness, unless he was being fed. But beneath those beady eyes and the well-worn appearance, Scabbers was turning current events swiftly over in his brain.  
  
Remus Lupin was here. Moony. The man hadn't noticed him yet, although he had come close to stepping on his tail just yesterday. Scabbers felt inclined to risk it, as it was unlikely that Lupin would recognize him-since he was supposedly dead.  
  
The presence of Snape and Harry surprised him. Snape was a Death Eater, one of his master's elite, one of the inner circle. What was he doing with the Dark Lord's greatest enemy? And /taking care/ of him? If what he thought was true… maybe he would be rewarded after all for his labors.   
  
And the escape of Sirius Black…  
  
This was the biggest danger to Scabbers' life. In his ratty brain, he valued his own life above anything else in the world, even above the rewards that he felt he deserved. And the largest threat to his precious life was the gaunt, haunted-looking man in the blurred prison photo on the Daily Prophet's front page.   
  
Sirius Black knew everything. Sirius Black was the key, and he could tip the scales in such a way that would guarantee Scabbers' death. Sirius Black could set off the chain of events that was just begging to happen. He was a rat, and Black was one of the most powerful wizards he knew. There was no way he could kill Black or even lead the man to be caught. For, even without a wand, Sirius had a myriad of tricks up his seemingly endless sleeves. So the worst had happened; the other shoe had finally dropped. Unless-  
  
Under his furry skull, Scabbers' brain worked madly. Yes, there was one way that his life might be saved. It was a very risky way and promised no insurance for his safety… but if he succeeded… the large rat's eyes glittered madly at the thought-oh, if he succeeded!   
  
Since there was nothing else left for him, he might as well try.  
  
~*~  
  
"What the hell do those idiots at the Ministry think they're doing-"  
  
"Lupin, language!"  
  
"-Letting him out? Of all people, he was supposed to be in /maximum/ security! The bloody morons-"  
  
"/Lupin/! Watch your mouth!"  
  
"-Figures, though, that the incompetent bastard we have as a minister would think that everything was safe with the Dementors, that everything would be /fine/ if we trusted in them-"  
  
"Lupin, you're /holding Harry/! Kindly /refrain/ from swearing!" Snape bellowed in his face.  
  
The werewolf stopped in his ranting and blinked, then handed the child over. "Uh, sorry about that, Severus. I guess I must have lost it for a moment there…"  
  
Snape smiled wryly. "You just uttered more profanity than I've heard you use during your entire time at Hogwarts."  
  
Remus looked a little ashamed. "Sorry, Harry," he told the child, who was still fast asleep, in his own calm world. He stepped over a protruding rock and muttered, "why can't they set up an Apparation point /closer/ to the school?"  
  
Hogwarts stood brilliantly in the distance, a cluster of lights against the dark velvet night sky. It was absolutely frigid outside, the crisp fall air stinging their cheeks and freezing their breaths along the way to the castle. Leaves crunched underfoot as the season's first snow drifted silently down from the sky, like flecks of chalk against a blackboard.   
  
It was Mrs. Weasley who had made the recommendation that they go see Dumbledore ("if he's not already on the way to see /you/, man never misses anything!") in light of recent events. Nobody considered Sirius Black to be any large threat to Harry's safety, since the man had to be emaciated since his escape and, especially, wandless. But the mention of "Hogwarts" sent a feeling of comfort and the idea of a shelter from just about anything. If Harry needed to go somewhere secure, Hogwarts was that place.  
  
Hagrid greeted them outside of the thick doors. The enormous gamekeeper's eyes twinkled as he stared down at the two near-frozen travelers and said fondly, "is that 'arry now? Bless me, if he hasn't grown!"  
  
"Of course he's grown," Remus replied cheekily. "From the way Severus keeps stuffing him full like that."  
  
Snape bristled, and was about to respond with a particularly acidic reply when Hagrid opened the doors and lead them inside. The dining hall was already set for dinner, and the students were probably bound to arrive any minute. Overhead, the enchanted ceiling projected an illusion of roiling clouds and snow that fell halfway to the floor and vanished into nothingness. The gamekeeper lead them to Dumbledore's office, delivered a zany password, and left to see to his own duties.  
  
~*~  
  
Dumbledore looked the same from when Remus had last seen him. The man seemed to be ageless, the eternal constant in everyone's lives. He was always there, had always /been/ there, to offer comfort and advice to all of his fellow wizards. Even Fudge, who needed it most. His silvery beard contrasted sharply with his robes of deep blue, and behind those half-moon spectacles, a highly intelligent gaze appraised the two visitors.  
  
"Remus, Severus, Harry-" Dumbledore inclined his head towards the child's direction-"Good to see you all here unscathed. Come and warm yourselves-you look as if you could use it."  
  
The two men, frozen almost at the point where their teeth were chattering, proceeded gratefully to Dumbledore's roaring fire. The Headmaster regarded them with his penetrating, light blue gaze, the two men and especially their small charge. Harry was staring around the office, his emerald eyes taking in every detail, from the odd contraptions to the portraits of snoring previous headmasters.   
  
Finally, Dumbledore seated himself at his desk and faced his two guests. He folded his hands in front of himself in a benign manner and stared over the tops of his strange glasses.  
  
"You're here seeking advice on what to do concerning Sirius Black." It wasn't a question.  
  
Remus blinked in response and Snape scowled, trying to stop Harry from crawling out of his lap. "That's the gist of it, yes," the werewolf agreed.   
  
Dumbledore let out a long sigh. For a moment, they were allowed to see just how old he was; the ageless mask fell away and he was an ancient man, with tired folds under his eyes and numerous worry lines on his forehead. The sparkle went out of his gaze, the shine out of his silvery beard-for a moment, he looked quite dull and worn.  
  
In a flash, all that vanished and he smiled his knowing smile. "I will not lie to you: Hogwarts is the safest place for Harry. Now-" the old wizard reached out and opened a drawer in his desk, taking out two thick sheaves of parchment. "Due to some rather… regrettable circumstances" (Snape snorted) "our Potions teacher has been incapacitated for the time being."  
  
"It's that fool-Notts-that you have working for you?" Severus inquired.   
  
"Correct," Dumbledore smiled again. "But I would rather you not refer to him as a 'fool', since I hired him when our previous Potions Master had just left us. There were no other applicants." Snape looked a bit guilty there, but he could not help but add,  
  
"I hate that man."  
  
Lupin stared back. "Fact it, Severus, you hate a /lot/ of people."  
  
"A burden, it is," Snape agreed.  
  
"I'm offering you this: Teach as Potions Master and Assistant, and I will grant the three of you free board at our school," Dumbledore finished, pushing the two large stacks towards the duo.  
  
Remus eyed it carefully. "That's an awful lot of papers."  
  
"The usual rules and regulations that are always ignored by applying teachers. I am required to give them to you so you know what is expected of you here at this school," Dumbledore replied sternly, but his eyes twinkled.   
  
"What happened to Professor Notts anyway?" Remus inquired delicately.   
  
The headmaster replied, "he was partially melted by a Reducing Draft."  
  
"Idiot," Snape sneered, allowing himself a small smile of wry humor. Then he turned back to Dumbledore. "Who will take care of Harry when we're teaching?"  
  
"There's two of you gentlemen," Dumbledore pointed out. "I'm sure you could take shifts. However…" his face darkened ominously for a moment. "I'm not entirely sure if Sirius Black is the one who should be feared midst all of this…" Remus glanced at him questioningly, but the flicker of thought had already passed and the cheerful manner had clicked back into place. Lupin chose to ignore the Headmaster's previous comment and turned back to Snape.   
  
"What do you say, Severus?" the werewolf questioned his companion. "It's not bad."  
  
"No," Snape responded, looking at Harry. "It's not bad at all."  
  
~*~  
  
AN: Well, this got a bit darker, but I suppose it was necessary in order to develop the plot further… This chapter is also rather sketchy because I wrote it in a hurry. I don't think the one update-a-day quota will be maintained any further after Thanksgiving Break. Curse school!  
  
Again, if anyone sees a mistake concerning HP material, drop me a note.  
  
Thanks for reading and please review! 


	4. Searching for a Star

Murphy's Law  
  
Chapter Four ~*~ Searching for a Star  
  
The large black dog sniffed and wagged his tail in eager enthusiasm.  
  
He was an enormous, bear-like creature, with shaggy fur the color of soot and large, light blue eyes of a certain smoky luminescence that resembled the petals of a cornflower. He was ill-fed and the bones hung out visibly beneath his thin flesh. His paws were giant, badly scarred, and worn. A feathery tail curled up over his back in his temporary state of joy.  
  
Hogwarts rolled into sight as he followed the scent trail up over the next rolling snowy hill. The sky was a perfect cerulean shade, and the blankets of snow twinkled merrily in response. The castle itself gleamed like a burnished trophy, windows shining and warmth practically emanating from it.  
  
The dog sniffed again and broke into a brisk trot, tail thumping and tongue lolling out of his mouth like some stretch of pink ribbon. His breath steamed out in front of him in a cheerful fog. After all, there was hope for him here. Dumbledore was here. Along with-  
  
The dog gave an almost-joyful sigh into the crisp air and continued on his way.  
  
--Harry.  
  
~*~  
  
"See, Harry?" Remus bent over the table and pointed at the feather with his wand. Clear emerald eyes followed his every movement. Lupin then levitated the feather high up into the air so that it sank slowly downwards. A small smile crept onto the child's face.  
  
Remus felt himself smile back. "It's a Levitation Charm. You'll learn it here, someday." The feather drifted back, landing softly onto the table.  
  
The door to their quarters burst open. Snape stalked inside, his dark eyes snapping with rage that was so tangible that there seemed to be a small isolated stormcloud over his head, darkening his face. The Potions Master then proceeded to make himself a cup of tea and, clutching it tightly in a white-knuckled grip, sat down in a very angry way on their poor, abused couch.  
  
Remus turned to him, raising a brow. "Bad day?" he questioned mildly. He received a scowl for his troubles, followed by a balled-up piece of parchment that flew over to hit him in the nose, then falling to the ground.  
  
Lupin uttered a small "ow" and retrieved it, uncrumpling and scanning it over. It was an article from Witch Weekly, written by-  
  
"Oh no," he muttered. "Not /that/ woman again-"  
  
"That Rita Skeeter cow!" Snape snarled, hands clenching into claws, as if he were to rip out the obnoxious reporter's throat as they spoke. "I don't know /how/ that infernal woman does it, but I mean to /find out/!" he positively howled.  
  
Remus glanced back at the article. The headline screamed, BOY-WHO-LIVED'S GUARDIANS WORRIED ABOUT THREAT OF SIRIUS BLACK. It then launched into an accusing tirade about the irresponsibility of both Remus and Severus ("how could Dumbledore trust a werewolf?").  
  
"Hang on," Lupin said suddenly, tapping at the paper. "How did she know what Mrs. Weasley said, about taking Harry to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Hex me if I know," Snape muttered back, rubbing his forehead wearily. "That damned woman needs-"  
  
"Severus!" Remus snapped, as if on reflex. "/Harry/!"  
  
"Oh, yes," Snape muttered absent-mindedly, acting quite unlike himself. He then proceeded to mumble a few incoherent sentences, pacing back and forth in their chambers, a troubled look in his dark eyes.  
  
"Aren't you going to say hi to Harry, Severus?" Lupin asked lightly, breaking the odd mood that Snape had flung upon himself like a heavy, suffocating cloak. The potions master turned, blinked, and tried to say hello to his young charge. He didn't even make it that far, promptly falling over before the "h" had even formed on his lips.  
  
~*~  
  
"A simple case of exhaustion," Madame Pomfrey was saying. "The stress did him in."  
  
Severus was lying on his bed, tucked in with a particularly foul expression on his face, one that suggested to the witch, /come any closer and I'll happily oblige by ripping your head off!/  
  
Madame must have caught this, because she tutted under her tongue, shaking her head, but stepped promptly out of reach. "Don't even /think/ about getting up until at least two days have passed. I would recommend four, but knowing you…" She tutted again. "I can cure sprains, Professor Snape, but exhaustion of both physical and magical resources is not easily dealt with, nor strength easily restored. What were you /doing/ to wear yourself out like this?"  
  
"Severus is a workaholic," Remus replied lightly.  
  
"I am /not/," the other man retorted irritably. "For your information-"  
  
"Enough. Just make sure he gets lots of uninterrupted rest and eats well." Pomfrey gave a roll of her eyes to the duo and a warm smile to Harry before returning to her own wing.  
  
As she slammed the highly ornate door shut, Remus turned back to his grumpy companion. "She's right, Severus, what /were/ you doing?"  
  
"What do you think?" Snape practically screamed, his eyes bulging. "That stupid reporter woman! I want her /dead/, Remus, and I will /see/ to it that her career is-" suddenly, he sucked in a very large breath, gave a small shrudder, and passed out cold on the bed.  
  
"You see what I mean?" The werewolf said softly, tousling Harry's hair. "He's so wrapped up in everything else that even /ranting/ takes more energy out of him than it takes for ol' Moony to run a mile."  
  
~*~  
  
Dumbledore was on his way downstairs for one of his famous midnight snacks. The castle had been bitterly cold that night, with chilling drafts somehow managing to seep into the enchanted walls. He made a note himself to get that checked in the morning, but for tonight he didn't mind; it gave him a plausible reason for another nightly stroll.  
  
Even though Dumbledore knew the castle like the back of his hand, he still found it difficult to navigate in the lack of light. The torches sprang into life as he passed them, casting odd shadows, but they did little to distinguish one trick stair from another.   
  
There was a black flicker before him; Dumbledore stopped and frowned. It wasn't a scrap of shadow. There was something odd about the way that shade moved. It seemed almost… /alive/… He waited for a few moments, but it didn't return, so he resumed his way to the house-elves and a promising cup of hot chocolate.  
  
There it was again, gliding across him, slower this time, so it was a blurred form moving against a corner. Dumbledore drew his wand and muttered, "/lumos/," bringing the odd shadow into full view.  
  
It was a large black dog, lips raised in self-protective defiance and a savage light of aggression in its pale blue eyes. Its fur was tangled and matted, the tail rigid and paws spaced out in a flight-or-fight position. Dumbledore's frown deepened; there was something odd about this dog. He could dispatch it easily, but the animal seemed almost human…  
  
The blue eyes rolled up at him, pale and defiant. He'd seen that look before, out of hundreds of visits to his office on accounts of blowing up Slytherins in their beds and pulling pranks on poor old Severus Snape and his lackeys…  
  
"Sirius," the old wizard said nonchalantly, as if it was normal to meet another of his kind as a giant ebony dog that resembled the odd emaciated haystack. "What /are/ you doing here?"  
  
The dog gave one more soft growl, then changed back to human form with a soft "pop." His hair was as matted as the dog's fur, his appearance as starved as the animal had been, and his eyes still as defiant. "Dumbledore," he whispered, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur. He opened his mouth to explain further, but Dumbledore held up a hand, silencing him.  
  
"I'm sure there's a great deal you wish to tell me, Sirius," the old wizard said kindly. "However, my judgment tells me that you are in severe need of a bath and some decent food… maybe some real robes, too. You can relate your story later. Change back to your… Animagus form-" Dumbledore raised a brow here-"and follow me to the kitchens."  
  
Sirius looked shocked for a moment, then a long, slow smile began to spread across his face. It made him look at least ten years younger and no longer as haggard. With another quiet "pop," he changed back into the shaggy canine and followed Dumbledore towards the warm aromas of the kitchens.  
  
~*~  
  
Remus was an early riser. As a child, he used to often sleep in, but after becoming a werewolf, he found it harder and harder to have a good night's rest. Especially after the full moon, he found himself unable to sleep at all, and he could never stay asleep after the sun came out. As a result, Lupin arose every morning between six and six-thirty, regular as clockwork. It had gotten to the point when you could keep track of time according to the hours he kept.   
  
It was a weekend, and some students were already up and about, excited for their trip to Hogsmeade. A few were even at breakfast already, chatting with their group of friends. The holiday season was fast approaching and everyone was beginning to take in the excitement. The Great Hall was already decked out with decorations while the majority of the students were still there to enjoy them; streams of holly and ivy lined the snowing ceiling and candles were present absolutely everywhere. The table was decorated with sprigs of fresh plants and twelve trees, each proudly displaying their own unique set of ornaments, lined the entire affair.   
  
Remus, however, was surprised by being greeted by Dumbledore and asked to proceed directly to the Headmaster's office.  
  
The Headmaster was about as decorated as the castle. Obviously, the old wizard enjoyed the Christmas season and was seen wearing a different but appropriate set of robes every day for the week before the students left for break. Today, they were emerald-green, a touch deeper and somehow fuller than the color that adorned the Slytherin flags, with scarlet and gold trimmings. His spectacles glinted merrily off from the candle-cast light, but his expression was a rather grim one.  
  
"Remus, there's something you need to see, up in my office." His voice was quiet, as if there was something that he didn't want overheard underlying his statements.  
  
"All right, Professor, if you wish," Remus replied slowly, his curiosity piqued. And in that way they walked down the corridors and to Dumbledore's office.  
  
Remus had been in this oddly-decorated, practically circular room more than a few times in his Hogwarts career, and he never failed to discover something new and exciting in it. This time, however, the surprise was not in the form of an odd gadget or a strange new panting. This time, it was alive.   
  
This time, it was a giant soot-black dog.  
  
The werewolf blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, then launched forward, his teeth bared into a snarl. "/Sirius Black/!" The hair shot up on the creature's back like a current of electricity had just zapped through it.  
  
Before Remus could go on strangling the large animal, Dumbledore stepped between them. The ancient wizard's eyes held nothing but the most impatient seriousness, coupled with an almost urgent expression.  
  
"Remus," the Headmaster said carefully, "you must listen to me."  
  
Lupin, still wearing a furious scowl, nodded very tentatively. He never kept his eyes off the Animagus.  
  
"You have trusted me for many years, Remus. Lily and James Potter also put their trust in me, for better or for worse. You /must/ listen, Remus, or an innocent man will meet an unjust and terrible fate, and a guilty man will bring about the darkest evil yet to be seen in our times."  
  
It sounded like one of those cheesy action films with their attempts to instill drama into the plotline, Remus mused, but he nodded again. He /did/ trust Dumbledore, without hesitation, with his life.  
  
"Your friend Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed Lily and James, not Sirius," Dumbledore continued. Remus noticed how his old friend's eyes burned at the mention of that name. The fur on the dog's back rose even more sharply. "The Potters switched their Secret-Keeper at the last moment, because they believed you to be the-"  
  
"Traitor," the werewolf finished shortly. "Yes, I know."  
  
"Pettigrew then returned to his master-Lord Voldemort."  
  
Remus' expression darkened. "He wouldn't have. Albus, he was one of our closest friends. A /Marauder/."  
  
"What makes you able to accuse Sirius so easily, then? Sirius, who was also one of your best friends, and a fellow Marauder?" Dumbledore pointed out. "Do not let what you believed in the past to cloud your judgement now, Remus."  
  
The other frowned. "But Peter is dead. /He/--" pointed to Sirius-"Killed him."  
  
There was a slight /pop/, then Sirius changed back into his human form. His face was frightening. "That rat is /not/ dead. He cut off his own finger, threw out a curse, and transformed back into a rodent to escape in the sewers!" The rage contained in his voice was throbbing and clearly audible, despite its hoarseness. "He bloody well /framed/ me!" There was a mad glint in his eye as he continued, "But little Peter Pettigrew got the best of me for the last time. He liked powerful friends, that one. Always hung around me and James and you at school. It's not surprising that he moved on to what /he/ thought was a stronger master. A better 'friend.'"  
  
Remus folded his arms across his chest. "All we have on the matter are your words against a wizard who's in the First Class Order of Merlin and resting six feet below the ground. The words of a despised murderer against the memory of a hero."  
  
Sirius' expression contorted into one that was even more furious. "Dig him up, then! I dare you! Dig up his grave-if it even exists! See if you can find a body!"  
  
"There /was/ no body because /you/ blasted everything that was left of him except for a damned finger!" The werewolf roared back, his usual cool demeanor deserting him. The memories of shock and pure, undiluted anger surged back to him-the feelings he'd experienced after hearing what had happened at Gordic's Hollow, the death of two of his dearest friends…  
  
"Remus! Sirius!" Dumbledore barked sharply, cutting into their tension. "That will be quite /enough/! Remus do you really distrust your best friend that much?" His penetrating azure gaze was overwhelming. The werewolf was forced to look away.   
  
"It's hard to… to take in, Headmaster," he replied gruffly. "No potion in the world would be able to convince me of something I would have to find out for myself."   
  
Albus glanced sharply at the professor and decided that he would have to accept it as that. Wearily, he circled his desk and seated himself in it, leaning over on his elbows and bringing the tips of his long fingers together in deep thought. After a moment, he looked back up at the seething pair and said slowly, "there is an immediate problem on our hands, gentlemen. If what Sirius says is true… then Peter Pettigrew may already be on his way to find his master."  
  
~*~  
  
Remus stumbled back to his chambers in a daze. One of the fundamental blocks of his life and beliefs had just been promptly removed.   
  
He debated on whether or not to inform Severus regarding their castle's new… /guest/… but then decided that Dumbledore would inform his friend if it was necessary. Snape needed his rest anyway, and the very /thought/ of Sirius Black was enough to send the man on a rampage.   
  
While Remus had to look after him… The werewolf shuddered. Definitely not telling Severus.   
  
He did, however, contact Molly Weasley by the fireplace system. He didn't really intend to discuss the Azkaban escapee with her, but after the morning's events, he really felt like talking to /someone/. And, since Harry was (oddly) still asleep and Snape would throw a fit if he woke him, Lupin decided that the cheerful smile of the Weasley mother was really the way to go.   
  
"Oh, good morning, Remus!" The redheaded woman's plump face filled out into a bright expression of happiness. How anyone or anything could be that happy at this hour was beyond him, but he was grateful for it.   
  
"'Morning, Molly," he replied, leaning over the edge of the fireplace. "Care for some breakfast?"  
  
"No, thank you. Already ate and all." Mrs. Weasley responded, though with a grateful nod. "Did you see that terrible article that Rita Skeeter wrote on you and Severus? Is it true? I hope you're not shirking your responsibilities as his guardians-"  
  
"What?" Remus demanded. "Never! Molly, d'you honestly think that we'd be so… so /irresponsible/?!"   
  
Mrs. Weasley hesitated a moment, then said, truthfully, "yes." The werewolf was about to object when she winked at him. "But no less irresponsible than that Arthur of mine, so I'm positive that Harry will come out all right." This earned the first smile Remus had yet to give that day. "My husband's obsessed with eklectiricty too."  
  
"Eklect-what?" Remus narrowed his eyes.  
  
"You know. That thing that happened to you when you stuck a key in something and it shot you across the room." Molly clarified.  
  
"You mean stupidity?"  
  
"Sometimes I'm inclined to believe they're the same thing."  
  
Remus huffed under his breath and swore that he'd get even with Severus after the man had told Mrs. Weasley /that/ particular story.  
  
"Anyway," the woman continued, as if nothing had happened, "I woke up at /four/ this morning because Percy lost his rat. The boy has a set of lungs on him that you wouldn't believe, screaming us up from bed-"  
  
"Rat?" Lupin asked quickly, frowning. "Did you say Percy has a rat?"  
  
"/Had/," Molly replied. "It's a beat-up sort of creature, really, with a toe missing and all that."  
  
"T-toe? Missing?" Remus accidentally spat out half of his mouthful of coffee on Mrs. Weasley's head. "Sorry, Molly. Did you say that the rat has a /toe/ missing? What does it look like?"  
  
"The toe?" Mrs. Weasley asked, confused.  
  
"No, the rat," Lupin answered quickly. "What does the /rat/ look like?"  
  
"Like any normal rat, I suppose," she said slowly. "It's grey and overweight and has an ugly naked tail. It's really disheveled-looking, to be honest with you. Don't tell Percy I said that. And it seems to be absolutely /useless/ for magical purposes. We got it about two years ago, and it sleeps most of the time-"  
  
For once, Remus found himself /very/ glad for Mrs. Weasley's attention to detail. "Thank you, Molly," he told her gratefully, albeit with great speed. "I have to go see the Headmaster now. Have a nice day!"  
  
"You too, dear," She responded, distracted and obfuscated, disappearing with a small "pop" into the fire.  
  
~*~  
  
  
Haha! Done! Done! With this chapter at least! It took so freaking /long/ to decide where I was going to take this, but I'm happy with where it's going. Don't worry, there /will/ be more Harry-interaction in the future, but I had to build plot this time (again), which also accounts to the lack of humor. It's weird; plot building = no humor…   
  
Anyway, I got one question about how Remus never noticed the presence of Wormtail at the Weasley's. Well, he was on the train with them when Ron had Peter with him as well, and he didn't notice him, so I figure there's only a very small plot hole there, if any.   
  
Okay. I had some things in this that I just had to redo, so this is the second time I'm posting it. They're small changes, I know, but they've been bugging me for some time.  
  
Thanks for reading! Please be kind enough drop a review! 


	5. Dog on a Leash

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't hope to own, so don't sue me.  
  
  
Murphy's Law  
  
  
  
Chapter Five ~*~ Dog on a Leash  
  
  
  
Wormtail ran as fast as his short stubby legs would carry him.  
  
  
That was the problem with being a rat; your body was ridiculously close to the ground and your feet small and far apart. Rats can scurry very quickly over short distances, but they are not marathon runners. Even worse, the rodent thought bitterly, was the rain. It soaked his already disheveled fur through, and the scant coat he had was not enough to keep his bones from freezing.  
  
  
The other problem: there were no sewers to be seen in the countryside.  
  
  
Inwardly, he cursed the Weasley family for living out in the middle of nowhere. The Burrow was comfortably accommodated, but it was not located near any major cities or even large towns, so the only way Wormtail could make his way to the nearest train for London was to scamper.   
  
  
He needed to get to his master. Maybe it was the rat's brain that now occupied half of his own consciousness, but being out in the open reeked of danger. It was irrational, this fear that he felt, but it galvanized him towards further efforts of reuniting with his dark lord. Prisoners turned in their foul beds in Azkaban, screaming for his blood as revenge for their master's downfall. There was an equally large amount of people free in England who wanted him dead, having seen their comrades and dreams stripped away from them because of /one filthy rat/.  
  
  
Wormtail chuckled bitterly to himself, his breaths coming up short and labored. A rat, was that it? He was a rat. He didn't even acknowledge himself as a human or wizard anymore. If called by his real name-"Peter"-he probably wouldn't even answer to it anymore! His identity had slipped past the cracks of reality, vanishing along with his presence in the wizarding world.  
  
  
They still believed him to be a hero, those fools at the Ministry. How easy it was, to turn the media against the truth! They were so easy to manipulate, a tool as mindless as himself to Voldemort. There was only one threat to that, one problem in the tangled tapestry of his existence, the largest knot of them all-once unraveled, it would sort everything else out…  
  
  
The problem was named Sirius Black, and, even past Voldemort, he was perhaps the man that Wormtail feared most.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Remus burst into Snape's chambers in a fashion that would have done his colleague proud. He was really starting to get a hang of the stalking thing; taking long, lengthy strides with a particularly dark air about him. The only thing he hadn't worked out was how to get his robes to billow out behind him in the same manner that Severus' always did. Did he have some sort of fan attached to his rear end to get that effect? Whatever he did, it was damn cool, and Lupin found himself wanting to emulate it (along with, although they'd denied it if questioned, half of the other professors at Hogwarts).   
  
  
Right now, the news that Mrs. Weasley had just given him weighed heavily on his mind. Pieces were falling into place, starting to complete and sinister and terrible puzzle-one that he determined to be better unsolved. His entire /reality/ had been stripped away from him in just /one morning/. If anything, his ambivalence whether or not to inform Severus of the castle's new… /guest/… had been decided. The words were practically on his lips when he noticed the room's new occupant.   
  
  
Severus was sitting upright in his bed, petting the head of a /very/ familiar-looking, Grim-like dog.   
  
  
Remus spluttered, unable to register what was happening here, then blurted out, "Severus, what the hell are you /doing/?!"  
  
  
The Potions Master stared back up at him unflinchingly and stated in an infuriatingly calm and matter-of-fact voice, "petting our new dog, what does it look like?"  
  
  
"How did he get /in/ here?!" Remus managed to stammer out.  
  
  
"Dumbledore brought him in here. Said he was yours. I must admit, Lupin, I didn't expect you to be an animal person," came the ready reply.   
  
  
"D-Dumbledore? Brought him…?"  
  
  
"I thought you'd be surprised," Severus continued, as if nothing about the werewolf's behavior was unusual. "Dumbledore told me he'd been missing for a while, but honestly, Remus, what kind of reaction is that? You look like you've seen a ghost, not your loveable /best friend/." The last two words were spoken with an ironic tone to them that made Lupin cringe at how unbelievably /true/ they had been at one point.  
  
  
"B-But he's not-Harry-"  
  
  
Snape suddenly turned thoughtful. "Brilliant idea, Lupin," he stated, as if agreeing with something he imagined Remus saying. "He /will/ make an excellent guard dog for Harry. If he's housetrained, we can let him sleep in Harry's room-he /is/ house-broken, isn't he?" He added, as a second thought, bottomless ebony gaze boring into the werewolf's. Padfoot gave a short bark, as if taking offense to that statement.  
  
  
"Yes, he is," Lupin found himself saying. Was Severus really that energy-deprived? He'd become delirious! It was incorrigible; he could never defeat Sirius' crazy ideas when the man had one back in their Marauder days, and it sure seemed like he hadn't a /chance/ at it now. Just to placate himself, he aimed a venomous glare at the shaggy haystack of a dog, but wondered if he should inform Severus of the creature's true identity.   
  
  
No, it was more like a question of, "do I want blood and guts to be splattered all over the room this early in the morning?" And, frankly, he didn't. Plus, now he had reason to believe that Sirius /was/ telling the truth-a scenario had had played out in his mind before. If he ever confronted his one-time friend and the other claimed innocence, would he believe him? Before, the answer had been a staunch and unflinching "no," but now Remus was not so sure…  
  
  
As if to agree, Padfoot gave another bark, this time a happy one, and wagged his tail furiously.   
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
Grudgingly, Remus was forced to lead the giant black dog to Harry's room, where he conjured a length of rope and knotted it securely across the creature's neck. The other end he tied to the doorknob in a large, bulbous tangle that /no one/, would be able to undo without the aid of a knife or something. Then the werewolf knelt down so he was level with Sirius' pale blue gaze, and told him quietly,  
  
  
"I have to go see Dumbledore. Right, I'm leaving you here with Harry for five minutes. If you so much as harm a single hair on his head, /nothing/, not Voldemort, not Merlin himself, will stop me from killing you."  
  
  
Sirius wagged his tail once and whined. Lupin rose, feigning disgust, but practically caving-he'd gotten that puppy-eyed look on more than one occasion of his Marauding career, and better people had succumbed to it. With a sigh, the professor rose and exited.  
  
  
Sirius waited patiently until he could no longer hear the man's footsteps echoing down the hall. Then he tried to change back to his human form-and gave out a hoarse whine.  
  
  
The result of his attempts was a sharp pain outlining the nerves of his body, and he cursed and gave an expression of agony in the same breath. He should have /known/ Lupin would have put some sort of Transfiguration-blocking Charm on this damn thing. Why would he trust the former convict in Harry's room otherwise?   
  
  
The dog hauled himself upright and padded over to the crib. He was about eye level with the side, and he nosed it gently. There was no sign of anything stirring inside it. A brief flash of concern crossed the canine's mind; did something happen to Harry? Why wasn't he moving? Then, he realized that the small child must have been asleep. He would have chuckled if he could; there went the godfather instincts that he'd never known existed! If only James could see him now…  
  
  
But he couldn't. And because of that, Sirius had sworn to himself to keep Harry safe under any and all circumstances. It was kind of fair that way, wasn't it?  
  
  
Something shifted in the crib. With a grunt of effort (it was harder than it looked), the great coal-black dog heaved himself upon his back legs, resting his front paws lightly on the rim of the crib, his nails scraping a little against the wood. He pulled his head over, panting good-naturedly at the small boy inside.  
  
  
The first thing Sirius noticed was the boy's eyes, even before the famous lightning-bolt scar. He didn't think /anyone/ could miss eyes of such an uncanny green shade. They sparkled at him, holding some sort of innate intelligence. Harry didn't seem the least bit surprised to see him. He blinked a little, but that was all the reaction Sirius got.  
  
  
As a former Marauder, he was a bit disappointed by the response-or, rather, lack thereof. But that quickly passed as he bent his head down and sniffed. Harry smelt strongly of baby powder. The Azkaban escapee laughed mentally as he called up a picture of Snape changing diapers-Merlin, how did the man manage? From the Severus he knew back in school… well, that man was more likely to hang than to take care of an infant.  
  
  
Sirius has risked his life and limb to escape from Azkaban to protect Harry from this man, and he still didn't trust him.  
  
  
The shaggy canine stared back down at his young charge. Harry blinked again, some new light coming into those odd eyes, then suddenly stretched out a small arm, as if reaching out for his godfather. Sirius longed to be able to shift back into his human form, to take his godson into his arms and comfort him. For not the first time in his life, he cursed Lupin's book-based knowledge. What dusty old tome did he dig this rope charm from?  
  
  
Harry seemed to understand what was upsetting his godfather, and gave a slight smile. The expression seemed to brighten up his otherwise solemn face considerably. Even more, Sirius felt something in the rope /give/, succumb to that innocent grin.  
  
  
For a moment, he froze, shocked at what he thought had just passed. And then, he made the swift transformation back to his human form.   
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
[  
  
Whee. That took… quite a while. Sorry about that. I /think/ I'm back on the writing track, but it's too early to tell for certain. Hopefully we have some form of more complications emerging, setting us up for future hilarity. D'you know, I actually wrote this chapter about three weeks ago, but didn't post it until today because I wanted to be sure where this was headed? Kind of overly cautious, but it will pay off in the end. I hope.  
  
Also, I started another fic, called [cat in shadows]. It's a lot darker than this one, which makes it lots of fun to write, but as a result, things could get a little weird. I invite you to try it, with the request that you drop a review ^^  
  
Again, thanks for the time. Please, review!  
  
] 


	6. Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't hope to own, so don't sue me.  
  
Murphy's Law  
  
Chapter Six ~*~ Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon…  
  
Dumbledore had never looked so tired before, Remus realized as he faced the old man once again in his office. Even now, the eyes seemed darkened and the expression exhausted. Dumbledore had, as Remus and just about everyone else knew, been at his peak when he had fought and defeated Voldemort's predecessor.   
  
Now he was just a haggard, ancient wizard.   
  
Faithfully, the werewolf shared the news. The headmaster's frown deepened with each passing word. Finally, the story told, Remus stood back to allow Dumbledore to digest the facts. At last, the silver-haired wizard spoke.  
  
"Our fears have been realized, and Peter Pettigrew has truly escaped to rejoin his master."   
  
Remus nodded, dumbly.  
  
"If that is so… I don't see how we can prevent it from happening." Dumbledore let out a long, drawn sigh. He looked utterly defeated-something that Remus had truly never seen in the man before. Then he reminded himself, /the man's more than four times your own age. Give him a break; he deserved to go to his rest a long, long time ago./  
  
Then, his thoughts darkened from pity to desperation as he began to see what Dumbledore had already realized. /We can't do anything… That was the beauty of Peter's Animagus transformation. He could slip in anywhere, out of any place or situation. Besides, who notices another rat? And he wasn't even registered, which makes things worse…/  
  
"We… can wait," Lupin offered, although he himself winced at those feeble words, at that weak option. "We can only wait."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, and pulled his long fingertips together in deep contemplation.   
  
~*~  
  
The return to his chambers showed Lupin both a missing Harry and a missing Padfoot. A bubble of irrational anger rose in his throat, but he suppressed it and tried not to jump to conclusions. Instead, the werewolf moved onto the next room, hoping for Sirius' sake that nothing had happened to James' son.  
  
His choice was the right one. Proceeding to Severus' bedchamber, he saw the Potions Master reading out of a dusty old book that must have weighed at least twenty pounds, and Harry on the floor. The dark-haired child was cuddled next to Sirius the great ebony dog, listening contentedly.   
  
Remus paused in the doorway, almost enjoying the scene. All three people looked happy; something he hadn't seen in a long time and something he didn't want to ruin.  
  
"'Sir, said Merlin, ye may not lie so as ye do, for ye must to the field through ye ride on an horse-litter: for ye shall never have the better of your enemies but if your person be there, and then shall ye have the victory.'" Severus paused briefly after this phrase, fixing Remus with his deep glare.   
  
"Isn't /Le Morte Darthur/ a tad… /advanced/… for a kid Harry's age?" Remus demanded, still keeping his eye on the canine.   
  
"Nonsense. He understands it, don't you Harry?" The professor directed his gaze to the boy, who seemed to be listening with rapt attention. "I think he likes hearing about Merlin."  
  
"Who doesn't?" Remus countered. He was right; almost all young wizards passed through a "Merlin Stage," usually before they hit Quidditch and after they had been potty trained. "I remember I was obsessed with learning about the old druid and his deeds," he admitted.  
  
"Sometimes I'm inclined to believe that you're still at that childish level," Snape told him dryly, then returned to reading.   
  
Remus, meanwhile, knelt down and prodded Sirius' head with a warning finger. The werewolf's cold gray eyes bore challenge, but the dog merely looked annoyed and even had to gall to snap lazily at Lupin's hand. "Miserable mutt," Remus told him, earning a growl for his efforts. Padfoot rolled over on his back indignantly, reveling an odd dog biscuit of an electric green shade. Remus picked it up curiously.   
  
"Severus, what's this?" he asked, blinking. He never remembered buying any dog food. Unless…  
  
"What? Oh." Snape frowned slightly. "I thought he ate that."  
  
"Severus, this wouldn't be the /potion/ that Madame Pompfrey gave you earlier this morning, would it?" He waved the bone-shaped dog treat, amused.  
  
Snape reddened-one of the very few times that Remus had seen him embarrassed. "The stuff is disgusting," he managed to grate out. "I know potions, Lupin, and I'm positive that one would have /killed/ me if I'd downed it."  
  
"So tell her that," Remus advised snidely. "Unless…" his grin widened. "You aren't /afraid/ of Poppy, are you?"  
  
"Afraid? What? Have you gone mad?" Snape tried to sound outraged, but his faced flushed even more, giving the game away. "She's a nurse, Lupin. A /nurse/!"  
  
"The same /nurse/ that Transfigured you into a cat when you were in your Fifth Year at Hogwarts," Remus recalled. "And left you to wander around the castle for two days looking for help because you didn't know how to turn yourself back! I see how it is now!" he crowed. "The infamous Severus Snape, scared of a school nurse!"  
  
The red had deepened to a startling shade of scarlet. The patient managed to choke out, "if word of this ever gets out… I'll make sure you pay for it, Lupin."  
  
"Scout's honor," Remus grinned back. /But then again, I was never a scout…/  
  
/I was a Marauder./  
  
~*~  
  
Later, after evening classes, after Harry had been tucked in, Remus decided that Snape needed to know the truth about his new doggy friend. He had been uneasy on how to reveal it before, but he also didn't want Sirius to stay a canine for the rest of his life. Part of him was still sympathetic on the behalf of an old friend, and the other half hated shaggy-coated things that shed too much fur and drooled and scratched and attracted fleas.   
  
Of course, he couldn't reveal it all at once. It would totally shock Severus out of twenty years of his life and probably also cause him to go into a trauma-induced coma. This /was/ the best time to do it, though, seeing as the man was bed-ridden and magically exhausted-he would probably only be able to Transfigure Remus into something at worse. No curses or complicated hexes.   
  
Lupin decided to approach the situation casually. Subtlety had saved his life before, especially when it came to hanging out with Sirius, around /girls/… he had saved them both more than a few slaps in their Hogwarts careers.  
  
Quietly, he knocked on Severus' door, hearing the irritable voice snap from within, although softly, "stop tapping around and get on with it, Lupin." Apparently, he was still sour from Remus' earlier observations. Not a good sign.  
  
The werewolf decided to step inside meekly this time. Padfoot was slumbering at the foot of Severus' bed, but he stirred at the very slight creak the door made when it opened. Lupin had decided to move Harry's crib into Snape's room for the night, as he knew he would probably have to get up to take care of either or both of them, and the decided that he'd rather trip on some stuff in the dark to get to one room rather than trip over more stuff and stumbling into two different rooms.   
  
Sirius sniffed, then opened one pale blue eye accusingly at the disrupter. Remus ignored him.  
  
Harry was sound asleep. Good, that worked in his favor; Severus wouldn't scream or rant or do anything particularly violent if the child was slumbering in the same room (another reason why he picked for having him in this room for today). Bravely, Lupin drew in a breath and blurted, "Severus, do you remember Peter Pettigrew?"   
  
"Pettigrew?" The Professor wrinkled his brow. "Wasn't that the ratty-looking, pudgy boy that used to run around with you and Potter and… /Black/… back when we were in school? Got himself blown up by Black?"  
  
"The same," Lupin nodded. /Geez… how am I going to do this?/ "Except… he didn't really get himself blown up. You see, Peter is still alive."  
  
At this, Severus blinked. And stared at his companion like he was insane and had just started dancing a little jig and singing. "Remus, are you feeling alright?" But not for nothing had the man been known to have a brain as sharp as a scalpel. Click, click, click, and the pieces began falling in place. "Oh no," he began, eyes starting to bulge a little. "You're not serious. You actually think Black is /innocent/?"  
  
"No," Remus replied, winced at the tone of his words, then relented, "yes. But before you do anything like hex me-" he added quickly before Snape could put in another word, "you should hear the rest of this. The rest of what Dumbledore and I have figured out."  
  
"Dumbledore? He thinks Black is innocent too? Has he finally cracked?! The wizard blew up an entire block and thirteen Muggles along with it! It was a nightmare for the Ministry to cover up!" Severus snarled, sitting up.   
  
"Wait, Severus, you don't know the entire story," Remus interrupted hastily. "Don't jump to conclusions." At the foot of the bed, Padfoot raised his head and wagged his tail eagerly. "Don't make the same mistake I did."  
  
The pitch-colored eyes narrowed even further, into dark slits. "What are you talking about, Lupin?"   
  
Remus swallowed, then proceeded carefully.  
  
"What you didn't know was that Peter was an Animagus…"  
  
~*~  
  
[  
  
A/N:  
  
Silvaerina: how now, that is cool. I usually don't do these little reviewer-reply things until I finish a fic, but I found that to be /very/ cool. ^_^  
  
That didn't take too long, did it? Anyway, sorry for leaving it there, but it's late and I really must go to bed before my parents decide to string me up on a stick and roast me over an open fire. Jolly goodness, isn't it?  
  
Expect the next chapter sometime soon. I have February break, true, but I also have a certain sadistic social studies teacher who enjoys torturing his students with homework that cannot be measured in terms of hours. Rather, I gauge the amount we have in /days/.  
  
Anyway, thanks for spending your time reading this little ficcy. I hope it was a positive experience. Please drop a review if you think it was. If it wasn't, please drop a review (note here: not a flame, a review) telling me why it wasn't. Feedback is always good. Until next time!  
  
] 


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